


One Great City

by Kyra



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Character of Color, Chromatic Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-13
Updated: 2008-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra/pseuds/Kyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't care if they're gay, straight, engaged, whatever -- a guy needs intercourse!" - Andy Bernard</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Great City

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 5x07, Business Trip. Takes place during that episode.

_"I don't care if they're gay, straight, engaged, whatever -- a guy needs intercourse!" - Andy Bernard_

_   
_

"Holy shit, man, holy shit!" Oscar's laughing so hard about Angela he almost drops his drink, and Andy's falling into him, trying to get his phone back into his pocket. He misses three times, so Oscar covers Andy's hand with his and guides it into his jacket pocket.

"Thanks, man," says Andy, somehow managing to grab Oscar's fingers inside his jacket pocket and squeeze them. "You are..... quite a gentleman. _And_ a scholar."

And god, the way he talks is just so hilarious that Oscar's laughing again. He finally manages to pull his hand free from Andy's and clutch at his wobbling Long Island Iced Tea. Which is actually a former Long Island Iced Tea. Empty. Gone.

"Another round?" he says, pulling out his wallet, which is when he realizes all his Canadian money is gone, and he's not going to be the jackass who tries to spend American money abroad. "No money," he says to Andy. "End of the drink line."

"What?" says Andy, pulling himself upright from a pretty pathetic slump against the bar. "This cannot be. To the minibar!"

"The minibar!" says Oscar. He never uses the minibar, it's so exorbitant, but what the hell, he's drunk! It's only money, right? And he's hanging out with the world's oldest fratboy. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

"Sometimes you have to do what you have to do," he says, as he struggles his coat on.

It's fucking freezing outside and it takes forever to walk back to the hotel. Andy sings most of the way, but happily switches songs whenever Oscar vetoes. (He refuses on principle to listen to ABBA or Miley Cyrus.)

Inside the hotel the lobby is empty and quiet, just yellow lights and corporate carpet.

"Corporate carpet," he laughs as they wait for the elevator.

"What?" Andy says, but he's laughing too.

They stand inside the elevator for a long time before Oscar realizes neither of them hit a button. Which is hilarious enough to set him off again. Andy laughs through his teeth, lets it shake his whole body, and he falls against Oscar as he does, their shoulders bumping. It's a long time before either of them is composed enough to actually push the floor button. Oscar takes a lungful of air and focuses on the feeling of the elevator humming upward.

"I'm sorry ..." Andy says abruptly into the silence. "About tonight."

"What?" Oscar says. "What, why?"

"That I didn't get you laid, dude," Andy says, sounding dejected. "I just, I don't know what was up."

"No, no, no," Oscar says.

"But you have _needs_, man," Andy says. "I mean, how long has it even _been_?" It's unclear whether he's still talking about Oscar, but he doesn't want to answer anyway. Gil left and then he remembered that he pretty much hated clubbing and was too old and lazy for the gym, and, well. Sometimes you have dry spells.

"Seriously, don't worry about it," he says. The elevator's gotten to their floor, but he doesn't realize until the doors are closing again. This elevator is ridiculous.

"But people need human _touch_," Andy says, grabbing his hand to illustrate. "I mean, this," he says, squeezing. "And _this_," he adds, looking for more exposed skin, and settling for pressing his other hand to Oscar's neck. Oscar can abruptly feel his own pulse against Andy's hand. "Right?" Andy says, and he sounds so sad and desperate, and the elevator walls seem close and warm. Oscar's suddenly sweltering in his coat. Oh, what the hell.

When he kisses Andy, Andy makes a sad, desperate little noise in his throat and presses closer to Oscar. Andy's taller -- Oscar loves that, and he slides his hands inside Andy's coat to his sweater vest. Right, this is a guy in a J Crew sweater vest, he can't be too off-base.

Plus Angela's a beard if he ever saw one. Everything makes way way more sense this way. He starts to tell Andy this, but he's laughing too hard to get it out.

"What?" says Andy, uncertainly, and the way he pulls back just a little, wary, makes Oscar slide his hands up to Andy's face and kiss him again.

"Wow," says Andy when he's done. "Wow wow wow." It's the most speechless Oscar's ever heard him, and he'll take it. He fumbles for the door open button and pulls Andy out, down the hall.

"Your room's closer," he says, and waits for Andy to fumble out his keycard. It takes him three tries to get it in right, and Oscar leans against the wall waiting. He's so _drunk_ and his mouth tastes like a godawful combination of Long Island everything.

Andy's room is dark, and he stops uncertainly inside the door without turning on the light.

"Hey," says Oscar, in the voice he uses to calm Kevin down when Angela's been at him all day. Andy lets Oscar take off his coat and throw it over a chair, then back him over to the bed. He looks up at Oscar like he doesn't know what he wants to say or do, so Oscar bends down and kisses him again, working at Andy's tie until the knot comes loose and he can step back and slide it off, over Andy's head.

"Wow, that's," Andy says. "I mean, I didn't-- I don't-- only this one time--"

"Shhh," says Oscar, "it's fine. Everything's okay."

"Right," says Andy, nodding like he wants to believe it, like Oscar knows what the hell he's talking about. It's chilly in here, and it makes Oscar feel how far away from the real world they are, all that dark, cold Canada around them, how the real world is still just Dunder Mifflin and his empty house.

"I can't believe we called Angela," he says, and Andy's laughing again when Oscar pushes him back onto the hotel bedspread.

**

He wakes up at three, head pounding, and doesn't know where he is for four terrifying seconds. Then Andy snores and oh god, right. He finds his boxers, and then the rest, and slips out into the overly bright hallway. Andy doesn't budge.

**

It's cool, they'll laugh it off and Andy can go back to his denial and his desperate, forced Angela thing, or whatever he wants. Oscar's feeling way better after more sleep and an extra hot shower and his third cup of coffee, not to mention finally getting laid, in a manner of speaking.

Andy comes in looking pretty happy, too, which is good. Oscar hates it when guys freak out.


End file.
